


Thunder Clatter

by vitamindesi



Series: It's A Bet 'Verse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Gabriel, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Smut, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1934979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vitamindesi/pseuds/vitamindesi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel finally have their wedding...and their honeymoon night.<br/>This can stand on its own, but there are a small handful of references to their relationship in the rest of the verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunder Clatter

**Author's Note:**

> So here's your wedding and honeymoon night!

Castiel was pacing up and down the small common area outside of the restrooms, hands restlessly fidgeting with his tie. He could feel sweat beading up at the back of his neck and took a deep, shuddering breath. Oh, God. What if he smelled when he got up to the altar? What if Dean refused to kiss him or something?

A soothing hand rested on his back and he inhaled deeply. Anna rubbed circles on his back and hummed under her breath. “How are you feeling Cas?”

He took another shuddering breath. “I’m so _nervous_ , Anna. I feel like I just swallowed an extra organ.”

Anna laughed and gave him a reassuring smile. “That’s normal. It’s to be expected.”

“What if I puke on him?”

Anna pulled a fist over her mouth, turning away just slightly, snorting. “You won’t puke on him Castiel, don’t think like that.”

_“How can I not?!”_

* * *

“Shit, shit, shit, Sam have you seen my tie?” Dean whirled around, fighting not to run his hands through his hair, which Ellen had spent twenty minutes teasing into just the right upturned shape.

“Brother,” Benny laughed. He stepped into Dean’s line of sight, the red piece of fabric dangling from between his fingers.

Dean leveled a glare at him, snatching it from his fingers. “You asshole,” he grumbled. “I left that on the chair for a reason.”

“Relax,” Benny drawled. “You’ll be okay. We did all this last night, remember?”

“No!” Dean hissed. “Someone swapped my champagne with rum, so forgive me if the rehearsal is a bit _blurry_.”

Somehow, every time someone handed him a champagne flute, it was filled with Sprite and Bacardi. Rather than making a fuss, he tried to nurse it, but every time he nearly finished one glass, someone handed him another, insisting upon toast after toast. He finally just gave up on trying to stay entirely sober, hoping that his best man would take care of him.

By the time that he and Castiel made it up to rehearse their vows, his vision had blurred around the edges just slightly. He’d botched his vows twice until he finally threw his hands in the air, grabbed Castiel and pressed a nearly violent kiss to his mouth. “I love you, I know my vows, I promise, can we please go eat now, and then get married in the morning? Please?"

Castiel only laughed at his fiance, detecting the slight slur and glassy look in his eyes. “Of course, Dean. Can you make it back to the car?”

Dean glowered at him, feeling the world swoop just a little bit as he stepped away. _Did you have anything to do with this?_ , he’d wanted to ask. The question fell from his mind though, when Castiel turned to everyone and declared the evening a success, and got ushered away, their last night as fiances destined to be spent apart, at Jo and Ellen’s insistence at sticking to some kind of tradition, seeing that they broke every other one possible.

Benny snickered slightly, moving Dean’s shaking fingers from his neck. “You’ll be fine, brother. You aren’t hungover. You’re welcome for that.”

“I’m going to find out whoever it was that kept doing that, I am telling you. Do not fuck with me.”

Benny ignored him, looping Dean’s tie and tugging it snugly up to his neck. “You look fresh as fuck. We’ll be lucky if this wedding stays PG.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Benny, if you’re checking me out, now would be the exact wrong time to start doing so.”

Benny only snorted and turned to Sam who was sitting on the small couch, staring at his hands. “You ready to walk your girl out?”

Sam scowled at him. “Anna is not _my girl_ , Benny, for the nineteenth time.”

It had become a running joke since they decided who was to be in the wedding. Jess, technically, wasn’t family, and insisted that she not be in the wedding party, content to sit and watch everything take place, regardless of the hours Sam spent begging her to be a part of it. So, while Benny was the best man and Jo was the maid of honor, that left Sam with Anna, Gabriel insisting that he walk Castiel down the aisle.

The night that they had all gone over details prior to the rehearsal, someone had produced some tequila and had allowed Sam a shot or four. He was giddy happy, the kind of drunker that Dean had expected, and he had unthinkingly given Anna a sloppy kiss on the cheek. He remembered nothing the next morning, until Benny had kindly shared the incident with him, if not with a few embellishments. When he’d seen Anna at the rehearsal he was sure he’d turned bright red, and only spoke maybe five words to her the entire night and unfortunately, Benny noticed, and was determined to embarrass him beyond recognition for it.

As Sam left the room, Dean gave Benny a withering stare. “This is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?”

Benny gave him a blinding smile. “Get out there, man. You’re going to be a married man, very soon.”

* * *

 

“If you try to cop a feel, I will cut your hand off and shove it up your ass so hard you’ll be tasting fingernails for a week.” Jo stood by the doors, blonde curls framing her face, her arms crossed. She looked absolutely elegant in her sleek dress, but the look on her face was terrifying and murderous.

Benny pouted. “You need to forgive me for that. Tequila makes me do strange things."

Jo put her finger in front of his face. “I’ll forgive you when I’m good and ready.”

“You beat the shit out of me that night, how have you not let it go?” He asked, bewildered. “I still have that bruise on my side.

Jo’s eyes narrowed. “Good. Maybe next time you’ll refrain from drinking tequila, if it makes you into such a handsy McGee.”

“Will you two shut the hell up?” Bobby was poking his head through the doors. “Ceremony is starting. Act like you like each other!”

Jo shot one more glare at Benny before straightening and looping her arm through his, focusing her gaze forward. Bobby and Ellen pulled open the large doors, revealing the room they chose for the ceremony. Dean and Castiel were both adamant it not be held in the church, so instead, they chose a lush hotel in the middle of Kansas city, their grand ballroom perfect for how Castiel envisioned getting married.

Small, twinkling lights hung from the walls and across the ceiling, hibiscus flowers looped around them, allowing a fresh, summery scent to permeate the ballroom. The aisle was red velvet, also lined with hibiscus flowers that smushed awkwardly under Jo’s heels.

They reached the end of the aisle and Benny guided Jo to the right, where Ellen now stood. As he released her arm, he brought her hand up and pressed a featherlight kiss to the back of her hand. Angling her body from their small audience, Jo shot him a look that, in any other world, would have had him pushing up daisies. He merely smirked at her, backing away, stationing himself at Dean’s side.

Sam and Anna followed Jo and Benny. Sam towered over Anna, looking handsome and only mildly uncomfortable. Anna handled his awkward gait with grace and poise, her head held high, red hair combed away from her face, her green eyes striking, focused and steady. When they reached the end of the aisle, Sam gave her a polite nod and stepped away, taking his place next to Benny.

The music changed just slightly, to an annoyingly upbeat song that Dean had fought tooth and nail until Castiel had explained to him that the lyrics fit their relationship perfectly, and he wanted everyone present to know that. At the pleading look in his blue eyes, Dean had acquiesced with a gentle kiss and an, “Okay, babe. I understand.”

Gabriel and Castiel stood side by side, not touching save for the crook of their elbows linked together. Gabriel looked more serious than anyone could ever remember him being. What he hadn’t told anyone, was that he took this task more serious than he’d taken anything else. While he and his siblings’ past stayed well hidden between the three of them and their few closest friends, he had taken it upon himself to raise Castiel and Anna after they’d run away.

Anna had taken to every change in their lives well, adjusting easily, her goals always in the forefront of her mind. Castiel, on the other hand, had struggled in a way that made Gabriel’s heart hurt when he thought about it. When Castiel was in middle school, he’d caught razor thin scars on his brothers thighs and across his hips. During Castiel’s freshman year, he’d come home late, high and drunk more often than not. He’d been so worried, but when Castiel got accepted to KU and moved into the dorms, he wasn’t able to keep such a close eye on him anymore, and instead would blow his phone up with texts and calls, just to be sure he was still alive.

Really, Dean had saved him. So, regardless of their title as brothers, blood or not, Gabriel wanted to be the one to let Castiel go, give him to Dean, really. It was a sense of closure for him, and if he had a tear or two in his eyes, whose business was that?

Castiel looked calm and (in Dean’s opinion) utterly delectable in his suit. His blue eyes sparkled with a hope and excitement that Dean had only seen when good news was presented, a small quirk of a smile that meant he’d rather be full out grinning, and was holding back.

_I hear it all in the center of my heart_

_You're the love of my life, the love of my life_

Dean felt like his heart might burst from his chest before Castiel made it to the altar. Much to his disdain, tears were already prickling the edges of his eyes. He fought the urge to reach up and swipe at them. Instead, he kept his eyes on Castiel, a grin helplessly growing on his face the closer that his fiance got to the altar.

Finally, a small handful of steps later, Castiel was there, he was right there, and oh my god, _they were almost married_. Dean’s heart stuttered out an entirely different rhythm and he felt like he might faint right there.

 _Oh hell no. No way am I going to faint right before my damn wedding_.

He shook his head, his gaze focused on Castiel, keeping himself levelheaded, at the very least, to be sure he made it to the part that they could kiss. In fact, was there a way that they could skip the blah blah blah and just kiss each other right then? Dammit, he should have asked that last night.

The minister spoke, his voice loud and clear, echoing in the ballroom a bit, as he spoke about the importance of friends’ and family’s presence there, supporting Dean and Castiel in this transition of their lives together. At some point or another, Dean must have tuned him out, getting lost in the faint shimmer of Castiel’s eyes, fighting the little itch in his feet that wanted to drag himself closer.

And suddenly, Ellen was standing by their side, a small grin on her face, holding a small cushion with their rings on them. Dean swallowed, feeling like a lump of cotton had suddenly lodged itself in his throat.

“Dean and Castiel have chosen to write their own vows. At this point, I will step back, and allow them to speak to one another, with you all as their witness.” The minister respectfully folded his hands together and stepped away. At first, it had taken a while to find someone to officiate their marriage with Dean and Castiel’s insistence upon non-traditional vows. But this guy, Jim, just shrugged and said, “hell with it,” and in retrospect, probably should have worried them, but they were too busy babbling and giving Jim the dates and times of everything.

Castiel stepped a fraction of a foot closer to Dean, gently plucking up a silver band from Ellen’s cushion and gently taking Dean’s hand into his.

His voice was quiet when he began to speak, shaking every couple of words. “Dean Winchester,” he swallowed thickly. “I take you to be my constant friend, my faithful partner, and the love of my life. In the presence of God, our family and friends, I offer this as my vow to you: to be your faithful and devoted partner,” his voice cracked for a moment, and he squeezed Dean’s hand in his own. “To love you truly through good times and bad. I give you my hand, my heart, and my promise,” he was very nearly gasping now, trying to get the rest of the words from his throat before he burst into tears. “to love you unconditionally. I vow to support you in your goals, honor, respect and cherish you as long as we both shall live.” The final sentence was whispered, his voice dwindling to nearly nothing, so much that everyone in their seats had leaned forward just slightly, to catch his final words.

The minister stepped forward just a small bit. “Do you, Castiel Novak, take Dean Winchester, as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Castiel sniffed a little bit, his eyes the color of the Hawaii ocean now, and whispered, “I do.”

The minister turned expectantly towards Dean and that’s when he realized he was shaking, shivering all over. He was covered in goosebumps, the hair at the back of his neck stood on end. This was finally happening. They were finally getting married, and really, it was all because of a stupid, childish bet that Benny had placed so many years ago.

The thought made Dean’s heart swoop as he stepped forward to pick up Castiel’s wedding band, and take his hand.

His voice was strong and clear, a stark contrast to how the rest of him felt as he began to speak. “I vow to help you love life, to always hold you with tenderness and to have the patience that love demands.” Here, Castiel sighed just a little bit, gripping Dean’s palm tighter. He knew that both of them were thinking of that fight. That huge, horrifying fight that had very nearly pulled them apart. “To speak when words are needed, and share the silence when they are not.” Dean began to get a little choked up now, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to stave off the tears. “To live within the warmth of your heart, and to always call it home.” A single tear fell from his eye and trailed down his cheek.

“Do you, Dean Winchester, take Castiel Novak as your lawfully wedded husband?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek and cleared his throat. “I do.” _Shit, I sound like I just gargled rocks, shit shit shit, someone will say-_

The minister smiled, a happy and genuine smile that lit up his entire face. “You may now kiss.”

Both Dean and Castiel fumbled forward too quickly, their noses mashing and foreheads bumping together. “ _Ow_!” they both cried simultaneously, stepping away, rubbing their heads. Dean laughed sheepishly, looking at Castiel from under his head. The laughter in the ballroom was deafening, but they tried again, stepping forward just a little bit slower.

Castiel bent his neck just slightly, looking up to meet Dean’s eyes as his hand came and rested under Castiel’s chin. Their lips met slowly, leisurely and relaxed, brushing slightly. A breath was exchanged, and then two, and they pulled away.

The minister was still beaming at them, and made a little loop with his finger at his side. Dean and Castiel gripped each other’s hands, turning to the small crowd in front of them.

“I am happy to introduce to everyone, Mr. Dean and Castiel Winchester-Novak!”

The applause was even louder than the laughter, with the added sound of Jo shrieking, probably because Dean and Castiel thought it a good idea to keep their plans of hyphenating a secret. From the look on Jo’s face, a cross between elation and irritation, it might not have been the best idea.

* * *

 

Since Castiel chose the song to walk down the aisle to, it was only fair that Dean chose the song they would first dance to as a married couple. Castiel had expected a Led Zeppelin song, or, at the very least, ACDC. What he hadn’t expected was the opening chords of Wild Horses to play as they took their spot at the center of the dance floor.

Castiel held his palm to his mouth, his eyes shining as they met Dean’s. Dean only smiled at his _husband_ (and holy shit, how long would it take to get used to that?) and pulled his hand away from his face, pulling them together. As they began to dance, Dean watched from the corner of his eye and saw Ellen leaning against Bobby, delicately swapping at her eyes. Anna had her arms wrapped around Gabriel, her eyes filled with pure joy.

Castiel rested his forehead on Dean’s shoulder, allowing his arms to be his anchor as they slowly spun. “We’re married,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly across Dean’s suit.

Dean brought him closer, inhaling the fragrance of his shampoo; the faint scent of cinnamon and honey. “Yeah, Cas. We’re married.”

The dancing felt like it went on forever and Castiel took every other minute as an opportunity to chastise Dean about choosing a ten minute song, while simultaneously thanking him for it and for the meaning behind the lyrics. By the time that it ended, and the DJ had gone on to the rest of the playlist, almost everyone was on the dance floor. Sam was twirling Jess around, her flowery dress flowing outward, giving her the air of a princess. Gabe had somehow coaxed Jo into a dance with him, trying to buy her forgiveness with pouts and pleads.

By the time that they finally got around to eating, Dean tore his gaze away from Castiel for just a moment, long enough to notice that mostly everyone was swaying on their feet, even those who weren’t dancing. Their eyes all held a slight glazed look, loopy smiles gracing their features.

Dean tugged Castiel off of the dance floor. “Uh, Cas? Notice anything weird about our guests?”

Castiel frowned, puzzled. He took in his surroundings, lingering on the people closest to him. “Um...they all look really happy? I mean, it’s a wedding Dean, I’m not sure what you’re looking at.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at him. “They all look drunk, Cas. The open bar was only an open bar for thirty minutes.”

“Then how…”

Dean’s exasperated sigh made Castiel look at him curiously. “Dean, I don’t...oh. Oh, shit. Don’t-!”

By the time he reached the last syllable, Dean was already half across the room, his eyes trained darkly on Gabriel. Gabriel noticed his looming presence just moments before, jerking out of the way as Dean reached for his lapels.

“What the hell are you thinking?” he hissed. “I know it was you!”

Gabriel shrugged, feigning innocence. “I may or may not have stumbled upon a handle of Malibu on my way here. And, I mean, what were you thinking, having an open punch bowl? Like, _hello_?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “It was Jo’s idea, you ass. No wonder she’s dancing with Benny, she forgot she was pissed at him about last week. And you got my little brother drunk again, you shit!"

“Yeaaah,” Gabriel breathed. “That was an honest-to-God mistake.”

“Dump it out,” Dean demanded. “Go dump it now and tell the caterers we’ll need more juice. Better yet, make it a whole bowl of PowerAde if they’re gonna sober up in time to go home!”

Gabriel winced. “Hey, it was kind of funny. I mean, look at Sam!”

Dean turned to see his brother across the room, leaning bodily on Jess. He was at least a full head taller than her by now, he body gangly and all awkward angles. Jess was taking it gracefully, petting a hand over his hair and chatting with another guest. Dean snorted. “When they get married and she pops out a gargantuan, I don’t wanna hear it. She’s in it for the long haul.”

He turned back to Gabriel and jolted slightly when he was gone, as was the punch bowl. Anna walked up to him, smiling broadly. “I knew something was awry when I was getting buzzed and hadn’t even gone to the bar.”

Dean shook his head fondly. “Your brother just loves to cause trouble, doesn’t he?”

Anna laughed. “I suppose that’s one way to put it. But it’s all- mostly- innocent. What really matters, is that he kept Cas and I out of trouble the best he could.”

Dean looked at her, tilting his head a little bit. “Yeah? I’ve heard that. What, uh...what happened with Cas?”

Anna gave him a forlorn look. “He’s always been an oddball, you know?” Dean laughed to himself. Of course he knew. That’s who he fell in love with. “It just made it difficult for him. No one ever talked to him about healthy coping mechanisms and he just...got a little bit lost.”

Dean was just about ready to reply when Castiel sauntered over and slung an arm around his waist. “Are you two gossiping?”

Dean got cut off again, this time by Anna, “Duh. I was telling him about that godawful ducky blanket you used to sleep with.”

Castiel groaned, pressing his face to Dean’s shoulder. “Dammit Anna, you couldn’t save that story until after the honeymoon?”

Anna laughed lightly. “Of course not!” She caught Dean’s wary, yet interested face and mouthed, ‘later’. “I’ll let you lovebirds get back to mingling!”

Dean shook his head as she disappeared back on the dance floor. “Cas, I hardly know half the people here, how am I supposed to mingle?”

“That’s because they’re my classmates and coworkers that I get along with.”

“No Crowley?”

Castiel sighed and turned Dean to face him. “Crowley was my dealer. Not my friend. Not family. He sold to me and gave me a bed to sleep on and I’m sorry but I don’t consider that enough of a friendship to bring him to the most important moment of my life.”

Dean felt like swallowing his tongue and brought Castiel forward to kiss his forehead. “I know, babe. I’m sorry I asked. Besides, with your brother having gotten half the guests drunk, the last thing we need is someone trying to sell them shit.”

Castiel laughed, relaxing. “You’re totally right. Thank you for sorting that out, by the way.”

Dean grinned down at him, squeezing his shoulder. “Anything for you.”

Castiel made a squinty face at him, but smiled back nonetheless.

The cutting of the cake went as smoothly as it could have gone with mostly tipsy guests. Dean swiped a small scoop of frosting across Castiel’s nose and nibbled it off. They both nearly stabbed one another in the cheek while trying to feed each other. Sam accidentally dropped his cake in Jess’s lap and she dragged him to the bathroom, yelling, “You made the mess, you get to clean it up! No pouting!”

Eventually, Dean and Castiel had hugged and shaken hands through the last of the guests and the janitorial staff were making their way through the reception hall, the caterers picking off the last bits of food before wrapping up for the evening.

“Are we free now?” Dean asked, his face pressed into Castiel’s hair.

Castiel smiled, guiding Dean out of the hotel, where a limousine was waiting for them.

Dean groaned. “A limo, Cas? Really?”

Castiel gave him a quick grin as the driver stepped out and opened the door for them. “I wanted to be sure you could relax before the flight and we would have a place to change into something more comfortable than our tuxes.

Dean’s fists clenched. He knew Castiel meant well, but reminding him of their impending flight was a bad move. As they climbed into the limousine, Castiel gently took Dean’s hand and rubbed his thumb over the back of his knuckles until Dean let out a shuddery breath. “You said something about getting changed?”

Castiel smiled. Of course nudity would be the comforting factor for Dean. As the limo pulled away from the hotel, he reached forward and began to undo Dean’s suit jacket, and then the buttons on his shirt. When Dean reached up to help, Castiel merely brushed his fingers out of the way, murmuring, “Let me.”

It was probably a cruel idea, if he really thought about it, working Dean up without actively seeking the time to finish it. But it was a distraction, one that was clearly needed, if Dean’s clammy palms were any indication.

Castiel gently kissed at the corner of Dean’s mouth as he slid the shirt off of his shoulders. Dean was breathing a little bit harder, chasing the kisses, not even paying attention to Castiel undressing him until he felt the harsh scratch of Castiel’s pants against his boxer-clad cock. He hissed, pushing Castiel away.

“What are…? Why?” He couldn’t finish his sentence, Castiel kept kissing his words away, barely containing his smirk. Dean felt his feet being eased into a pair of jeans and sat up again. “Cas, what the hell?”

Castiel bit his lip, looking at the watch on his wrist. “We’re going to be at the airport in fifteen minutes, Dean. We need to be dressed, otherwise the driver is going to be a bit miffed.”

Dean shook his head incredulously. “Miffed? I’m gonna have blue balls!”

Castiel continued pushing the jeans up Dean’s legs, giving up at his thighs, and opting to grab the T-shirt and pull it over Dean’s head. When Dean’s head popped through the neck hole, he met Castiel’s gaze with a glare. He reached for Castiel but ended up getting pushed backwards, sprawled once again, across the long seat of the limousine.

Castiel’s eyes had gone from cool and collected to dark with promise as he unbuttoned his own suit jacket, sliding it delicately off of his shoulders. “You’ll be fine, Dean,” he said gently. “You’ll be fine, because the entire flight,” he unbuttoned the dress shirt slowly, and Dean swallowed, belatedly realizing that he’d begun salivating. “You’ll be thinking about the first night of our honeymoon, in a suite in Hawaii.” Dean had to swallow again. Castiel was slowly sliding his his dress pants down his legs, revealing miles of firmly toned muscles and milky pale skin. “You’ll be thinking of how many different ways we can fuck on every surface of that suite. You will spend every minute of that eight hour flight thinking about who will do whom first. And when we get there? You’ll tell me _exactly_ what you want, _exactly_ how you want it.” Castiel was pulling a shirt over his own head now and when his face was revealed again, he was smirking. “Think you can handle it, Dean?”

The click of Dean’s throat swallowing a third time was audible over the quiet hum of the limousine engine. “Yeah Cas,” he croaked. “I can do that.”

He wasn’t sure how he managed to stagger his way through security and check in, nor was he sure how he managed not to burst into flame from pure embarrassment when he went through the full-body check. There was no way the TSA agents could have possibly missed his raging boner in the scan. He was even more positive in that fact when the guy behind the computer screen looked up at him with a raised eyebrow and winked at him.

Dean straightened and tried to make eye contact with anything that wasn’t the uniformed man ogling at him while his new husband patiently put his own sneakers on at the other side. The confirmation beep and flash of green light was enough to make Dean nearly sprint from the little glass container.

Castiel held onto Dean’s shoulder as he shoved his sneakers on, one by one. “Dean? Are you alright?”

Dean nodded rapidly. “Yup. I’m fine. Hunky dory. Gotta pee. That’s all, just gotta pee.” He was babbling but he could practically feel the gaze of the TSA agent honing in on his ass and just, _no_.

For once in his life, Dean Winchester was happy to be getting on a plane, so long as it meant getting far, far away from that TSA agent.

* * *

“Dean you need to pick up the pace, let’s go!”

Dean whined and hung his head. “Cas, I’m _tired_. It’s like two am back home.

Castiel shot him a bewildered look as he hauled their bags into the trunk of the rental car. “Dean you slept for five hours out of the eight hour flight. You’d think that would have canceled the time change.”

“Well, it didn’t.”

Castiel snorted. “Obviously. Get in, I’m excited to see the suite.”

Dean waggled his eyebrows as he buckled his seatbelt and then moved to turn the AC on full blast. “Oh, I’m sure you are.”

“Shut it, Mr. Winchester-Novak.”

“Make me, Mr. Winchester-Novak,” Dean snarked back, playfully smiling.

Castiel gave Dean a two-second withering glare before launching forward over the center console and grabbing Dean’s face between his hands. The kiss was nearly violent, their tongues tangling, Dean’s breath snatched straight from his lungs. Castiel licked his way into Dean’s mouth and then nibbled on his lips. He abruptly pulled away and threw the car into reverse, beginning to drive.

And then they were on the highway and Castiel grinned over at Dean. “You were saying?”

Dean could only blink dazedly at his husband. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this bad a case of blue balls in my _life_.”

Regardless of the renewal of his embarrassingly inconvenient boner, Dean was amazed with the sights they passed by. Honolulu was a beautiful and bustling city. Bushes of hibiscus flowers doned nearly every corner, palm trees never far from sight. The air was clear and clean smelling, the sky dark and sort of dusky, illuminating the city in a weird, enticing way. People roamed on the sidewalks, couples, homeless folk and determined loners, power walking, their arms pumping relentlessly.

“This is like New York City…..but cleaner,” Dean murmured.

Castiel snorted, taking his husbands hand and holding it to his thigh. “You’ve never been to New York City, Dean.”

“So? I’ve seen enough of it on The Avengers.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, maneuvering them into the parking garage of the hotel. “Of course that’s your only basis. Let’s go, hope you’re not too tired to carry your bags.”

Dean rolled his eyes this time. He’d been exaggerating about how tired he really was. Castiel had been right; his extended nap on the plane should have cancelled out a majority of the jet lag he’d be feeling later. And after the little tease Castiel had given him before arriving at the airport, he was more than happy about that. He could feel the insistent nudge of that boner coming back as their guide walked them through the honeymoon suite and told them all of the wonderful things that they could do during their week on the island.

Castiel gave the guide a tight-lipped grin. “Thank you for being so gracious. My husband and I have had a long flight. Will there be someone downstairs who can provide us more information in the morning?”

The woman nodded shyly. “Of course, Mr. Winchester-Novak. Before I leave you for the evening, here is a complementary bottle of champagne to celebrate your marriage with! Aloha!” The door shut with a gentle click. Their room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioner, and faint bass beats coming from the bar below that was attached to the hotel. Dean and Castiel stared at each other for a moment, breathing quietly.

Dean took a shy step forward. Castiel quirked his eyebrow. Dean took another step, and another, until he was right in front of Castiel, their slacks dragging together gently. “So...Cas.”

Castiel smiled up at Dean. “Yes?”

Dean cocked his head, licking his lips and watched Castiel’s eyes drop to follow the movement. “How about some champagne?”

Castiel froze as Dean turned to the cart by the door, and began to work open the bottle. “Wait. Are you serious?”

Dean flashed him a grin. “Does it look like I’m kidding?” He poured some champagne in each glass, delicately holding one out for his husband. Castiel stood there gawking at him as Dean said, “to living happily ever after!”

“Happily ever after,” Castiel echoed hollowly.

One sip, two...Dean’s eyes were glinting mischievously. Castiel glared at him over the rim of his glass, while using his free hand to slowly unbutton his jeans. He watched Dean accidentally snort his champagne on an inhale, stepping away to double over coughing.

When he straightened back out, Castiel was in his boxers, an eyebrow raised in challenge. Dean coughed again. “Are you serious?”

Castiel’s head cocked to the side and he smirked. “Do I look like I’m kidding?” He took a step forward and gently removed the champagne flute from Dean’s hand before wrapping his hands in Dean’s shirt and yanking him forward.

He leaned down and brushed his lips softly over Dean’s ears. “I want you on that bed and naked in about thirty seconds. Think you can do that?” His voice was nothing more than a growl and Dean felt an actual shiver crawl up his spine, Castiel’s tone reminiscent of that husky, enticing voice from so many years ago.

“Uh. Um. I can- I can try?”

Castiel gave him a tiny shove, just enough to disentangle his hands from his shirt and Dean whirled, nearly tripping over his own feet to get to the bedroom of the suite.

The bed was a king, huge and dominating the entire bedroom. A sweeping satin canopy hugged the bedframe, enveloping it in a sheer curtain. The sheets were a deep red, a stark contrast the white curtains around it. Dean nearly tripped again in his haste to get his pants off, almost falling into the bed, but catching himself at the last second to throw his pants in the general direction of the closet and their suitcases.

Castiel came into the room just as Dean lobbed his boxers by his other clothes. Both of them stood naked, staring at each other from across the room, breathing harshly.

And suddenly it hit Dean. They were married. After everything they had been through, together and apart, they were finally together. Castiel had been with him through John’s arrest and court ruling, through the rest of his college education and attempts at figuring out his own life. They had fought, _God_ , how they’d fought. But they came back to each other and kept on going.

And here they were. Married.

Dean’s heart skipped. “Cas,” he breathed.

Castiel jolted, as if being caught doing something he shouldn’t have. He shook his head and took three long strides, grabbing Dean and hugging them together. Their dicks were suddenly touching, smearing across each other. Dean hissed at the sensation, missing Castiel’s rushed movement of pulling back the canopy curtain and then shoving Dean onto the bed. He bounced twice and then scooted himself as far as he could as Castiel knelt down and crawled over him.

Their lips met in a surprisingly tender and passionate kiss for all of the shoving that had just happened. Castiel gently brushed his lips over Dean’s, pulling away slightly every time that Dean tried to chase the kiss. He held his lips over Dean’s cheek as their stubble brushed against each other and a shiver wracked Dean’s frame so hard that Castiel felt it through his own bones.

Castiel held his lips over Dean’s again, allowing Dean to take over the kiss for a heartbeat, to lick into his mouth and run their tongues together before he pulled away. “You never told me what you wanted,” he whispered huskily.

Dean swallowed roughly, squeezing his eyes closed for a moment. “You,” he choked out. “I want you. Inside of me. Please.” His voice got very small at the end, a small squeak of a plead.

Castiel nibbled gently on the lobe of Dean’s ear, relishing in the shiver it produced. “Yeah? You sure? Slow or hard?”

When had the room gotten so hot? Dean could have sworn that the air conditioning unit in here was prime. “Both,” he finally gasped. “Both, please both. I want you to….I want you to make love to me. And-and then fuck me. Please.”

Castiel laughed a little bit, unsure of how he was even breathing. In all the years that they had been together, Dean never used that phrase: _making love_. They had talked about it one night, how Dean was irrationally terrified of the phrase, how it meant laying out not only his body, but his soul as well for the other person. Making love meant allowing himself to be doted on, really taken care of; something that never quite sat well for Dean. Whenever Castiel tried to be more loving, or gentler in bed, Dean would grunt, or roll his hips in a particular manner that keeping it gentle was near impossible.

But now he had permission.

“Scoot up, Dean,” he murmured. “Get comfortable.” He moved the pillows so that they were under Dean’s head and hips. The pillow beneath his neck caused his head to fall back and he jerked up again, only to have Castiel shake his head and push Dean back down. “You can watch me later. I want to...I swear, I’ve wanted to do this for years. Just enjoy it, and tell me if you need me to stop.”

Dean nodded and allowed his head to fall back, his vision filled with the soft satin of the canopy and the dark bedframe. Castiel’s hands rubbed soothingly along his sides, slow whispers of touch, just enough to give him goosebumps. He was still startled, though, when he felt the brush of Castiel’s mouth just beneath his knee. It was only a gentle kiss with no real intent behind it, but Dean’s heart rate ratcheted up even further.

Castiel continued this way, small, loving kisses all the way up Dean’s leg to his inner thigh, ignoring his erection and continuing right on to the other leg. Dean whined a little bit, the sound escaping the back of his throat without his consent. He felt the small huff of laughter from Castiel at his knee.

“Patience, my love.”

Dean only whined again as Castiel traveled up the other leg, and then across his torso, peppering little kisses back and forth on his stomach, leaving small tingles in their wake. He spent a little more time than intended at Dean’s nipples, nibbling them between his lips until they were bright pink and Dean was all but gasping beneath him. By the time that he reached his neck, forgoing his lips to press small kisses to his cheekbones, his eyelids, his nose, Dean was murmuring incoherently under his breath.

Finally, sweet Jesus, _finally_ Castiel’s lips landed on Dean’s. Dean surged up, trying to take control of the kiss, but Castiel pinned his shoulders to the bed, holding him down. “No,” he whispered against Dean’s lips. “This is mine. Let me have this. Please, Dean, let me have this.”

Dean acquiesced, relaxing again. Castiel kissed him again, and this time, their lips moved together in a slow, rhythmic dance, a worshipping of each other’s mouths. Their tongues slid languidly together and Castiel swallowed Dean’s sighs of contentment.

They continued kissing slowly until Castiel realized that they were carefully grinding against one another, their cock trapped between their stomachs and Dean was making quiet groans and gasps at the back of his throat.

“Dean, do you want…?”

“Cas,” Dean groaned. “I swear to God if you don’t go and get that lube right now, I might actually kill you.”

It took a few minutes longer than Castiel wanted to find the lube, but was enough time for both of them to slow down and regain control of themselves and slow back down. The pillows were repositioned under Dean’s hips and his head was resting on pillow, his gaze nearly laser-like in focus on Castiel.

It was as if time had been reduced only to the breaths that they shared right then and there. Jet lag and time zones fell away from existence. Dean was terrified but he couldn’t deny the current of excitement running up his spine.

A lube slickened finger circled Dean’s entrance and he shuddered, his body involuntarily moving closer, trying to get it to breach him, to allow himself to be filled. Castiel still moved slowly, twisting and curling his finger until Dean was sighing beneath him, and then he added another.

Dean wasn’t sure how much time had gone by with Castiel teasing him, stretching him. He tried to ask why he was avoiding his prostate, but his fingers would wiggle just right and then the thought was gone before his mouth could form the words.

Three fingers in, and Castiel brushed up against that bundle of nerves just slightly, ever so carefully. Dean keened and rolled his hips towards Castiel again, but he only chuckled, withdrawing his fingers slightly with Dean’s movements. “Patience,” he repeated. “I was just making sure you were still with me.

“Cas, your fingers are up my ass, I’m not sure how much more ‘with you’ I could get.”

Castiel pressed just slightly towards his prostate again, watching Dean’s eyes roll back. “Cool the snark, Mr. Winchester-Novak.”

“Get in me, Mr. Winchester-Novak.”

Immediately Castiel went to rise to the challenge, old habits flaring up like fireworks in his gut. He leaned over Dean and brushed a kiss over his neck, whispering in his ear, “Nice try, Dean. I’m still heeding your original request.”

Beneath him, Dean whined, pushing his hips towards Castiel’s fingers again. “Cas, I’m _ready_ , please, I just want you in me, please, I-”

“Shh,” Castiel soothed him as he removed his fingers and slicked his dick with more of the cool lube. He clenched his teeth at the feeling, but allowed it to continue slowing him down, grounding him.

He entered Dean in a slow, slick slide, keeping his eyes on Dean’s face the entire time. His head was thrown back, eyes opened wide, his mouth slightly agape as Castiel filled him. When he bottomed out, Dean heaved a giant sigh, shifting his hips a little bit and watching Castiel’s eyes roll back.

“Sure you can manage slow and steady?” he teased.

Castiel’s eyes opened again, looking slightly glazed now. “Don’t test me, Dean. I will keep right on the edge of that precipice all night if I have to and when you finally do get to come you’ll have been crying for it.” The threat in his voice raised trails of goosebumps over Dean’s arms.

He went to reply to Castiel’s goading, but he rolled his hips, just slightly and Dean’s words dissolved with a groan. They had never done it like this. Sure, they’d gone slow and steady for a while before it escalated, but Dean always tried to keep the...passion to a minimum. He knew Castiel loved him, he didn’t need to be reminded while they were having sex.

But now...this was totally and completely different. Castiel was pressing small ‘I love you’s’ into Dean hips with his fingertips. His eyes were shining, a near ethereal blue, staring blessings into Dean’s skin. Every roll of his hips, gentle and smooth, was punctuated with a mouthed ‘I love you’.

Dean could only lay there, unable to look away or close his eyes, moving his body just slightly to meet every gentle, calculated thrust Castiel was giving him. He was itching to move faster, to change the pace, but he wanted Castiel to know how much he trusted him, how much he still loved him after their crazy long, slightly dysfunctional engagement. He wanted to give this to Castiel.

They moved together slowly, and Dean gasped every time the tip of Castiel’s dick rubbed past his prostate. It took every ounce of control he had to not thrust up harshly, chasing his orgasm. He could feel it building lowly in his core, hot waves rushing from his dick up and down his spine. Castiel seemed to be struggling just the same, his hips snapping a bit too quickly here and there, pulling groans from behind Dean’s clenched teeth. His hands were tightening near painfully over Dean’s hips.

“Cas, can we-?”

“ _No_ ,” he growled. “I want you to come just like this. Can you do that?”

Dean outright moaned, trying harder to thrust up, only to have Castiel push him back into the mattress. “Cas, I need-”

“I know what you need Dean. And you can have it. Just let it come.”

Dean gasped as Castiel hit his prostate again, his grip tightening on Castiel’s shoulders. “Cas,” he whined. “Please.”

But Castiel wouldn’t budge. He continued his slow thrusts, soft grunts and pants punctuating each one. He was struggling to keep his own orgasm at bay, but it was gradually getting more and more difficult with the way that Dean was insistently clenching down around him, trying to keep him in place. Castiel found himself moaning Dean’s name, unable to focus on anything beyond keeping control of the pace.

Dean was chanting Castiel’s name now, his hips meeting the thrusts in small, aborted movements as he struggled to keep his eyes on Castiel’s.

“Cas, Cas, oh my god, _Cas_ ,” there was a pause a pause and suddenly Dean’s whole body curled in on itself and Dean yelped and then groaned, orgasm overtaking him. His body shuddered with each spurt of come and he kept crying out, little _ah, ah, ah!_ sounds that went straight to Castiel’s dick. He let out a sound that was muffled against Dean’s neck as his own orgasm followed suit.

They laid together, panting against one another’s mouths in a half hearted attempt to kiss. Dean was the first to speak, and his voice was harsh and rough against his throat. He felt like he’d just gargled gravel. “That was...uh,”

“Amazing,” Castiel sighed against his cheek. “That was absolutely amazing. We need to do that again...very soon.” His breathing was beginning to even out, the notes of sleepiness beginning to seep in.

Dean only snorted. “Nobody has that short of a refractory period. Do you wanna get up and go clean this off?”

Castiel sighed, and allowed himself to be rolled off of Dean and led into the massive bathroom that accompanied their suite. The bathtub could have actually doubled as a jacuzzi and Dean deemed that enough to have to test it right then and there, regardless of the fact that it was nearly midnight. He found the expensive bottles of soap and dumped them into the flow of hot water, piles of bubbled erupting in its wake.

They stepped in together, hissing at the overbearing heat of the water, and slowly relaxed down into it. Dean sat up after a little while a constructed a beard for himself out of bubbles, and then proceeded to make a hat for Castiel.

“You are such a child,” Castiel laughed at him, trying to swat his hands away.

Dean raised an eyebrow. “You sure you wanna say that after what we just did Cas? Are you _sure_?"

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Case in point,” he said, and then splashed Dean.

“Oh!” he laughed. “And I’m the child, huh?” He splashed back at Castiel.

They didn’t stop until they realized they had significantly lowered the level of water in the tub, agreeing that, yes, maybe it was time for them to get out.

Somehow, drying off devolved into Dean leaning over the counter, eyes glued to the mirror in front of him as Castiel fucked him hard and fast from behind. Neither of them held back, their moans and the sound of skin slapping skin echoed in the large bathroom. When they finished, all Dean could do was laugh weakly and say, “at least we don’t have to go far for cleanup.”

Castiel snorted at that.

Their third round found them tumbling off of the bed and onto the floor with Castiel crying out “Ow, _fuck_! Oh god, Dean don’t stop!” Dean gave a breathy laugh and only continued thrusting, his arm wrapped carefully around Castiel’s chest.

After the third cleanup, they were back in bed, wrapped around each other, the sheets tangled at their waists, and it was nearing four am.

Castiel was pressing sleepy kisses to the back of Dean’s neck. “I love you,” he murmured sleepily.

“Mmm,” Dean could only sigh. “Love you back,” he mumbled.

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, thank you everyone for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and either way, please leave something for me in the comments, they always make me smile!!  
> Secondly, thank you [Ara](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ByArasDesign/pseuds/ByArasDesign) for being my beta reader! Could not have done this without this lovely lady at my side.  
> Thirdly, here are the songs mentioned in this fic.  
> [Thunder Clatter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mp5YWm5VHwQ&feature=kp)  
> [Wild Horses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZNaqBBjrIZw&feature=kp)  
> Finally, feel free to shoot me a message any time on my [Tumblr](http://veganasana.tumblr.com/)!


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